Happy Valentine's Day to everyone (specially every singleton like me, writing stories about it for lack of any real life event ^^)!

As usual, this story is a translation from French, so I apologize for the weird sentences that is a result of French proverbs and expressions that I use. Luckily, I have a (secret) weapon! So special thanks to legalronin, aka my master translator aka my proofreadering angel (too much maybe ? 0:-))

Have a good read, I hope you'll like it!

Saitou's feet were getting cold, waiting like that in the street, in February. If it weren't for her, he would have been home a long time ago. He gazed at the trinkets in front of him, not really seeing them. Suddenly, an arm slipped under his, along with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Saitou hid a grin. There was only one person in the world that smelt like cookies.

"Have you been waiting a long time?", asked Tokio Takagi, raising her head to look at him.

"Long enough for my toes to freeze." Tokio laughed.

"You really don't know what being polite is, do you?"

He leaned down to kiss her. "I thought it was part of my appeal."

The woman pouted, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Let's say it's a contributing factor, my not so charming prince."

He smiled at her and asked. "So, where are we going?"

Tokio cuddled against him. "It's Valentine's Day. One year to the day, that we first met."

"Really?" His tone was teasing. It earned him a nudge in the ribs as retaliation. "I suppose this is a special day, so?"

"You really are awful..."

"I thought you didn't like Prince Charmings."

Tokio squinted, but smiled despite herself. "Of course, but every girl likes a bit of gallantry from time to time."

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely." Tokio nodded, as solemn as a judge. "That's why you're inviting me to the restaurant tonight."

"If I don't have a choice..." He pretended to be in agony after a second nudge. He freed his arm from hers and put it around her waist. With his other hand, he patted her head, and started walking. "Happy Valentine's Day", he whispered, leaning in towards her. Tokio got closer to him, and he thought that, only for this, he could wait for hours in the cold.

A year earlier

Tokio had nothing against models. Men or Women. She liked admiring the former and wasn't jealous of the latter. Only, she didn't like that her potential boyfriend knew more than she did about the benefits and harmful effects of intregal waxing.

In any case, it wasn't a subject she would have brought up on a first date. At least, now, she knew there would not be a second one.

Tokio still wasn't sure why the hell she had said yes when a model friend had told her that one of her colleagues was interested in her and wanted to take her out that same evening

Probably because it was Valentine's Day and she was going to spend it alone. Again. Like ever year since she had passed the age of offering chocolate to her high school boyfriend. At the moment, the idea of a date with a gorgeous model had seemed like the perfect revenge against all those years of sentimental troubles.

But, like her granny used to say, it was too good to be true… Oh, he was so hot that half of the women in the room cast envious glances at him, and jealous ones toward Tokio. But, damn it, he had nothing clever to say!

Tokio was a librarian. She liked everything intellectual and hated useless effort. Like sports (she considered her aikido classes self-defense, therefore useful). To her, a well filled head was more important than appearances. Well, to be honest, if the wrapping wasn't too bad, it was a non-negligible plus…

With her turquoise eyes, her short black hair and her slender silhouette, she always attracted the exact opposite of her taste. A real curse. She didn't put in any effort into her hair and makeup, but still, she attracted them.

The woman held back a sigh when her date began to compare argan and pomegranate oil for moisturizing those sensitive spots. She could have laugh if she wasn't so miffed.

She decided that, if she heard the word 'beautician' one more time, she was gonna lose it, she took advantage of the respite in the model's torrent of words to stand up and apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm leaving you for a minute. I need to go to the ladies' room."

She had barely turned when she rolled her eyes. The waitress smiled at her with compassion. The young girl had witnessed an impassioned monologue about the pain he once suffered because of an ingrown air in his armpit. It was obvious that she had held back hysterical laughter.

Tokio headed towards the back of the restaurant, away from the room's gazes, and ignoring the restrooms, pushed the door leading to the back alley. The nice waitress had told them that customers and staff went there to smoke when they wanted to avoid the crowd at the front door. She sighed with relief when the fresh night air touched her skin. It was a warm night for February and her sweater was thick. She leaned against the wall, next to the door, and closed her eyes, exhausted.

After a while, a voice asked. "Did you forget your lighter?"

Tokio suddenly opened her eyes and turned towards the man who had just spoken. He was leaning against the wall of the building on the other side of the alley, a few paces from the door, which is why she missed him at first. He was quite handsome, tall and thin, with an uncommon but attractive face. He had a lighted cigarette in his hand.

The main street lights lit up the alley with enough light for her to see his eyes when he turned his head to face her. Gold.

The bunny in her recognized a predator. A wolf. But it wasn't just the bunny inside of her. Her own predator – the one that liked knocking down people at training – saw a peer. He didn't scare her. She was… interested.

Tokio smiled. "I just needed some fresh air. I don't even really smoke much. I don't even have one with me."

"Rough day?" Saitou asked, taking a drag from his cigarette and observing the woman before him.

"Rough evening mostly. I hate Valentine's Day."

"I thought every woman liked Valentine's Day, especially in a restaurant like that. »

The restaurant was indeed well-known for its cosy and private atmosphere, opportune for couples. No single person – especially a woman – would have come here alone.

"Valentine's Day, it's fun and funny when you give chocolate in high school. It's less funny at my age when you have a date with a man you don't even know."

"Ah." The man grinned. "Not the prince charming you were expecting?"

Tokio grimaced. "That's the problem. He is a prince charming. In appearance at least. Fashionable. With hair that moves just the right way."

"Not your style?" She shook her head. "Why did you accept then?"

Tokio had no idea why she was talking like this that to a stranger, but he didn't seem to mind it, so, she kept going. "It was that or spending the evening alone at home, in front of some mushy movie rerun."

"Ah. And now, you wish that you had chosen that option, is that it?"

The woman laughed. "I would have avoided a three point conversation about waxing."

The stranger raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. "Waxing?"

Tokio laughed even more. "He's a model. It's awful. This man knows more about makeup and waxing than I do."

The man chuckled at her miffed tone. "You look like someone in need of a cigarette."

He stood up straight and handed her a cigarette packet he had pulled out of his pocket. She took one and thanked him when he had loaned her his lighter. Tokio took a large puff of smoke and sighed. "Exactly what I needed. Thanks."

"You're welcome." The man leaned back against the wall, this time in front of her. After a short silence, during which he lit up another cigarette, she asked, "And you? Are you hiding from someone?"

He grumbled. "A friend's wife decided to play the match maker."

"And you left her alone? Poor girl... "

"Don't worry, she's talking to her pal and my 'friend'."

He looked angry when he spoke about his 'friend' but Tokio could also hear the affection in his tone. She laughed. "The traditional double date? It's daring for Valentine's Day."

"They are so desperate to see me married that they are willing to sacrifice themselves."

"Such devoted friends." Tokio added a hint of irony to her answer. She took another puff. "So? Isn't she your type?"

"I don't really like bimbos."

"Do you always speak so bluntly?"

"It's the truth. She would fit well with your model."

Tokio looked at him and they both laughed, after a short moment of amused silence.

"And you don't want to sleep with her?"

It was a bold thing to say to a man whose name she didn't even know, but she felt that he wouldn't mind a woman talking like that.

"And you? I'm sure your model is waiting for it."

"You're not serious!" Tokio pointed to the restaurant with her chin. "I don't even want to think about all he could say or what advice he would give me if he saw me naked." She pouted. "He would give me his beautician's address. She is sen-sa-tio-nal!" she added, imitating the model.

The stranger smiled. "You're not the doll up kind?"

She grimaced. "I could. But when I do it, all it does is attract men looking for a girl to sleep with or to make them shine in society. Or both. I'm a librarian, not a window display."

He smiled, drawing on his cigarette again. "You don't look like a librarian."

"Really? I'm trying though. And you, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a detective."

Tokio studied him. "You don't look like a cop."

He stood up and leaned toward her. "And what do I look like to you?"

At the same time, in the restaurant

"The bathroom must be crowded," sighed the young beauty in a black sheath dress. The woman next to her – just as beautiful, but in a less flashy style – exchanged a knowing look with her husband. Said husband held back a sigh. "I'm gonna go look for him."

He headed towards the restrooms, rolling his eyes. Where was his friend? He knew that he didn't like the girl and that he had taken the first chance he could to get out and smoke, but it was a bit too long for a cigarette break.

"Oh, excuse me", he said to the waitress he nearly bumped into. She was headed in the same direction as him. The door leading to the back alley.

"It's okay." She was young – almost a teenager. « One of the customers asked me to check on his companion. Who knows, maybe she had some troubles in the bathroom." She rolled her eyes.

Okita saw that she was holding back a smile. "Is she in trouble?"

The other coudn't help but giggle. « I don't know, but one thing is sure : she isn't in the restrooms. I saw her take the back door ten minutes ago. » She shook her head. "He said she was his companion but I'm sure it's a first date. And she doesn't like him. At all."

Okita couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Well, let's see this back alley together, Miss. My best friend – apparently in the same situation as this woman – decided to take the French road." (1)

"Ah, the bimbo? I saw her at your table."

"She's charming."

The young woman shrugged. "If there's no attraction, there's none. That's all. Sometimes, it's just not meant to be. And sometimes, fate makes it happen."

She opened the door and stopped abruptly. Okita nearly collided into her. If it didn't happen, it's only because he was also stopped dead by the scene in front of their eyes.

Oh, nothing indecent but the look in his friend's eyes and the one the girl's made him feel like looking away. Her back was against the wall, a cigarette in her hand. Saitou had his hand on the same wall, above her head, arm still, his weight supported by it, slightly leaning over her, a cigarette in his free hand.

Okita knew very well that his friend was scary. In his manners, in his behavior, and, most of all, with his wolf eyes. Most women were more than a little scared of him.

Not this one.

A pretty girl, by the way. Tall, thin, short dark hair, and from what he could see with the poor lighting, striking blue eyes. So caught up in their conversation, they hadn't hear Okita and the waitress.

Deciding that he couldn't watch this anymore. Okita loudly cleared his throat. Saitou and the woman turned towards them in a single move. She blushed slightly while Saitou cast his friend a dark look.

When you gotta go, you gotta go… So, Okita dived in. "Sorry my friend, but your cigarette break is a bit too long to be credible."

"And the man at your table is asking after you, Miss," add the waitress with a small voice, probably scared of Saitou.

"Oh please! If he talks about the benefits of cold waxing versus hot waxing, I swear, I'm gonna put my chopsticks in his eye." She thought about what she had just said. "Damn, I can't. There's a cop in the room. Drat." She glanced at Saitou. "Let's pretend you didn't hear that okay?"

"Deal," he answered with a predatory smile.

She gave him the same smile. Then puff out her cheeks. "Right. When you gotta go, you gotta go..." She looked so unenthusiastic that Okita and the waitress burst out laughtering, which cheered her up a bit. She wasn't entirely joking. Her detective was much more her taste than the model. They went back into the restaurant, half of them dragging their feet.

Tokio grasped her chopsticks seriously hesitating between diving into her rice bowl or into her companion's eye. Before she went out, he was annoying. Now, he was making her hair stand on end. She turned her gaze towards the other end of the room, where she could see her mysterious stranger.

He looked bored. Really bored. Yet, the woman sitting in front of him looked charming. A little too much make up, yes, but nothing too tawdry… Well, she did like the fact that he didn't liked her. Tokio was hoped that he was interested in her, though.

She set her eyes back on the man in front of her – she was polite – and tried to look more interested in what he was saying. He wasn't a bad person. He just was not her type. Tokio decided to finally dive her chopsticks into her meal. Food was now her best ally and only consolation.

Saitou was only half listening to the talk around him. He was suddenly grateful that Okita and his wife had insisted on being there tonight. At least, he didn't have to try to follow what the woman in front of him was saying. She was a nice girl, he didn't doubt that, but why the hell would Okita think that he was would like her?

… Now that he thought about it, the truth was probably the exact opposite: he had brought the first woman in his acquaintance that was ready to go on a date with Saitou.

Shame that librarian sitting across the room wasn't part of Okita's – yet extensive – circle of friends. Her, he liked.

He cast a glance in her direction. She looked bored. No wonder. Her date had his back to him, but he had seen him on his way to his table. Elegant, sophisticated, but… plastic. It was all so perfect that it was way too much.

Okita kicked him in the calf and he focused back on what was going on in front of him.

How many trips to the restroom were socially acceptable during a meal?

Tokio couldn't take it anymore. The man in front of her was erased by the one sitting across the restaurant. She wanted to go but she couldn't leave without the detective's name – and number.

When she saw him stand up, she froze. Was he leaving? Already? Was he worth it enough that she give up her dignity and run after him? Thankfully for her nerves, he didn't walk towards the entrance but in the direction of the back door. A cigarette break? Already?

They had just ordered dessert, it wouldn't arrive anytime soon… She probably had time to go to the 'ladies' room' again, right?

Okita gave his friend a dark look when he stood up. Really! Couldn't he pretend? Shamelessly using his charming smile – and with a lot of help from his wife – he bean to distract the woman his friend abandoned. What you don't do for friendship...

When the pretty girl left her table too, he nearly choked. Was he supposed to be mad at Saitou's lack of manners or happy that he finally found a woman he liked?

Happy, probably. He loved this man like a brother, so, as long as he was happy, so was he.

Okita was reduced to hoping that they would come back. His friend had ordered his favourite dessert, so he probably planned to. But between his stomach and… his lower regions, who would win?

"You do realize that I don't even know your name?"

The man growled. Of course, usually, this question came up before being back against a wall, arms around a man's neck, kissing wildly. But things were the way they were. And she had to know sooner or later.

"Saitou." He grabbed her butt pulling her closer to him. "Hajime Saitou."

Tokio raised her legs, and wrapped them around his waist. "Tokio Takagi" she said, triyng not to completely loose all sense of decency. She wasn't the kind of girl to sleep with someone in a back alley. But, if he wanted to go somewhere else…

He seemed to be in the same disposition when an embarrassed sound resonated in the alley. They turned their head towards the door as one, with the same murderous spark in their eyes.

"What?" they growled out together.

The waitress tried to look even smaller than she was. "I-I'm sorry Miss, but the man at your table is about to come looking after you. He looks worried. I thought that you might like to know."

Saitou released his grip on her. Tokio sighed and let her legs touched the ground again. "This is it. My chopsticks, his eye. Now."

"Do you want me to tell him that you weren't feeling well and so you left?"

Well, the young waitress seemed to be having fun with the situation. It wasn't so bad after all. Tokio was tempted, but her good manners won the upper hand. "No, thanks, you're an angel but I'll tell him myself… Can you hold him back for a minute?"

The waitress nodded with enthusiasm and closed the door. Tokio raised her head towards the man who still held her against the wall. "That will only take a minute. Sorry. Will you wait for me?"

He narrowed his eyes and leaned down, dragging her into a breath-taking kiss. "I will. But do it fast."

He moved aside, passing his hand through her hair in order to flatten her messy strands. She nodded, having trouble recovering her pulmonary capacities and walked to the door. She turned around at the last moment, breath still broken. "Don't you want to talk to your bimbo?"

He shook his head. "I've got Okita for that. That will teach him a lesson. He shouldn't have made me go one a date."

Tokio laughed. "Don't be so moody. If he hadn't, you wouldn't have met the sexiest librarian of all Tokyo." She punctuated her sentence with a suggestive look and a gesture towards her body, igniting a fire in Saitou's eyes. Happy with her result, she rushed into the building.

Left alone, Saitou grinned. Did she really think that he was gonna believe that she was sick? With her lips swollen by kisses, eyes sparkling and red cheeks? Not to mention the smile she couldn't take off her face…

Okita knew, the second he saw the pretty girl go back to her table, talk briefly to her date and leave that Saitou wasn't coming back. The little bastard! Now, he had to find a way to excuse his friend to the woman Saitou was supposed to be dating. He exchanged a look with his wife. She understood immediately. A deadly spark came into her eye. Oh, Saitou was going to suffer for that… It was almost worth the trouble of making up a story.

Brotherhood obliged him to send a positive thought to the universe, hoping that Saitou had finally found a woman on his own level.

And, manhood obliged him to discretely send him an encouragement text, full of heavy salacious comments. That was gonna piss him off. Okita grinned at the idea.

Thanks a lot for reading! Hope too see you soon, and don't forget the review, please ? :)

(1) Just so you know: 'To take the French Road' is the equivalent of 'filer à l'anglaise' (basically 'to take the English Road'), which is a very common expression in France (maybe less in England, I have no idea). It means to avoid a fight, a confrontation with something/someone. In this case, Saito is taking the French Road to avoid his date ^^. I always liked the fact that this expression was so perfectly reversed. Must be the heritage of hundreds of years of wars...